


in all this bitterness, you (taste) so sweet

by thebeehive



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, As well as ot5, Hatfield & McCoy feud, M/M, There will be a happy ending for Ziam, Well by happy ending I mean it might be slightly bittersweet, but i can't promise a happy ending for anybody else, we shall see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-27 04:46:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeehive/pseuds/thebeehive
Summary: Between 1880 and 1891, the Hatfield-McCoy feud claimed more than a dozen members of the two families that lived along the Tug Fork tributary by the West Virginia and Kentucky border.Liam is a Hatfield.Zayn is a McCoy.They meet in the spring of 1880.This is their story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So over the course of one weekend I became obsessed with the Hatfield and McCoy feud, (I have yet to watch the tv show/mini-series, but I did buy a book about it, ha), was feeling ambitious, and decided to Ziam the entire thing, so the below is the result. This is very different than what I usually do. Or, it feels different, I don’t know. I feel like my previous fics focused on the universe pushing Ziam together; this fic is all about the universe doing everything in its power to pull them apart. 
> 
> I’m not even sure if there are enough people left reading Ziam who would even read this? (Or maybe I am the only person who desperately needs this). Anyway, for anyone that gives this fic a chance, I really, really hope you enjoy it.

In the year of 1870, two boys are born seven months and 17 days apart.  
It is the seventh year of animosity between the Hatfield and McCoy families, who live along the Tug Fork tributary of the Big Sandy River between Kentucky and West Virginia.  
Despite the suit of sevens, these two are not fated for good luck for many years.  
The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.  
This is their story.

Ten years later, in the spring of 1880.

Liam knew he should have gone home after school got let out early for the day, but something drove him to take the path to the Tug Fork tributary, instead of taking the path back home, where his mother would surely have found chores for him to work on. Mrs. Mean, whose name would never fail to make Liam laugh, even though she was actually pretty nice, as far as teachers went, he supposed, had started clutching her distended stomach, and quickly dismissed the class. Bryon, an older boy who lived close to the school, was dispatched to go grab Mrs. Mean’s family; it seemed like the baby in her stomach was going to make an early appearance. 

He found the entire thing fascinating, in a distant, abstract way - another life, an entire little human being, was growing in her stomach. Liam had seen other pregnant women before, of course, but not like this, up close and with many months across the school year to witness the gradual expansion of Mrs. Mean’s small frame. He was the youngest of three himself, and his aunts had finished having children before Liam was born, and his older cousins were just now reaching the age where they would start having their own children. 

He looked down, the miracle of human life forgotten for a moment, in his discovery of what looked like the perfect walking stick, laid just off the path. He bent down and picked it up; he wondered if some soul walking the path before him had abandoned the stick in a fit of pique, then regretted leaving such a perfect specimen behind? The stick was thick, and just the right amount of knobby; it was a little tall for him, stretching a bit above his head, but overall it was quite the find. 

Liam continued on, walking stick in one hand and empty lunch pail in the other, listening to the sounds of the woods - the trills of birds, the sound of squirrels scampering up tree branches, and the noise of unseen creatures darting through the bushes; the cool breeze felt wonderful on the back of his neck - the school room was cramped and warm and always smelled like stale sweat, no matter the season. This spring the rain had been more fierce than usual, creating a stench that smelled like wet dog, layered on top of the stale sweat and faint aroma of coal and fresh cut timber that hung around the area. The heavy rains had left the path to the river muddy, and Liam stepped carefully around the worst of the mud and puddles. His shoes had developed a hole in them earlier in the week, and had become uncomfortably tight the last several months. The last thing that he wanted was for his sock to become wet inside his shoe. 

“I swear,” his mother said. “Every time I turn around you’ve outgrown your shoes, or your pants, and why does everything you wear have a hole in it?”

Liam just shrugged. His father answered for him.

“He’s a growing boy, Karen, before you know it, he’ll be taller than all of us.” 

Liam was the only boy, with two older sisters, so he was his parents’ favorite. He knew his mother wasn’t actually annoyed with him, and he had already been promised a new pair of shoes for the next week. But in the meantime, he had to be careful to navigate the muddy terrain. He continued to walk, eventually walking off the path and making his way along to his destination.

When the trees, many of them still bare but with early spring leaves starting to bloom along branches, thinned out and Liam finally reached the water, he took a moment to look around. This was one of his favorite spots along the Tug. This side was a bit rocky, which afforded Liam the ability to wade out to the farthest rock and fish, looking right down into the river. While the water wasn’t that clear, the fish in this part of the river were plentiful, and few others came to disturb his peace.

His father had taken him fishing for as long as Liam could remember. Liam was lucky, he knew - his father was in charge of the Hatfield timber yard, and didn’t work the long hours and exhausting manual labor of an actual logger, or miner or farmer. He had a bit more free time, and they were relatively well off, so like most boys his age in rural West Virginia, Liam was competent with a rifle, but his father had spoiled him a bit, so Liam spent more time fishing than other boys his age, as well as usually having the latest in amusements - his family had just purchased their first kaleidoscope, and he hadn’t even had a chance to show Louis, his closest friend at school, the intriguing device that sat on his father’s desk at home. He had spent a fair amount of time looking through the lens and twisting the round piece at the end, watching the vast array of beautiful colors and patterns take shape. 

Liam walked along the edge of water, looking out - the rocks he favored to sit on, pole in hand, weren’t even visible, due to the heavy rains all spring. He wondered when the water would lower back down so he could fish again. The river water itself flowed by, the current stronger and faster than normal - the river looked swollen, and Liam thought again of Mrs. Mean and her stomach. 

He started walking upriver. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but he knew he wasn’t ready to head home yet. The day wasn’t sunny, gray clouds hung in the sky, low and slow moving; as Liam looked up he felt a drop of water. He ignored it, and kept walking, stabbing the walking stick into pockets of mud along the wet bank, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the squelching sound the stick made every time he pulled it back up, fighting against the suction of the mud to free the stick, only to plunge it back down into the mud again. The drops continued to fall and increase in frequency, and he sighed, reluctant to go home but realizing he had no choice now; he was probably going to get soaked anyway as it was a good twenty minute walk to get home. The worst part was going to be the wetness seeping into the hole in his shoe. Liam sighed again, and turned around to head back, when he heard something. He tilted his head; it seemed to be coming from down river. 

He picked up the pace, still holding the stick, but no longer putting it in the mud, and his lunch pail rattled along in his other hand. The rain had started coming down in full force now, and Liam could feel the water start to run down the back of his neck, past his collar, wetting his back. He shivered, and tried to walk faster, placing his feet along the less muddy parts of the river bank. Then he saw the source of the noise. In the middle of the stretch of river, a dark head bobbed along the water. The person was yelling, but Liam could only hear the noise of the yelling from this distance, not the distinction of actual words. Through the rain, Liam could see arms, clutching onto a rock that protruded out of the water. The rock must have been a big one, Liam thought, since the rocks he was familiar with were all below the waterline now. He looked up and down the river, but didn’t see another soul - where had the person in the water come from? They should have known better than to go for a swim when the water was this high and fast - Liam knew currents could be tricky, and even experienced swimmers could be caught unaware and swept along. Or maybe this person had been on a boat and fallen off. He wondered if they were a good swimmer. 

He thought about running to get someone, but after calculating, he realized it would be almost an hour by the time he could probably find someone big and strong enough, or with rope or other tools that might be able to help the person that was stuck. Liam felt torn - he didn’t want to leave the person alone to their fate, especially if the rain kept coming down harder, but he didn’t know what he could do. He was a strong swimmer, and had grown up along the water, but this seemed beyond his strength. He gripped the walking stick tightly, then had an idea. He put down his lunch pail and quickly removed his shoes and socks, leaving him shivering in the pouring rain in just trousers and a shirt, both now soaked through. Taking a final, wistful look back towards the direction of the town and civilization, he took a deep breath, and started wading into the river. 

Liam gasped. The water was freezing cold - the runoff from winter snow melting into the tributary kept the water cold, and it hadn’t been that long since the river had last frozen. The Tug never froze all the way down to the bottom of the river bed, but the top layer developed a thin sheet of ice, deceptive in its placidity, as underneath the currents continued to move, teeming with fish and anything else that was unlucky enough to become trapped under the ice. 

The water was so cold it almost took his breath away- Liam took a big gulp of air and pushed forward, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, which was a challenge; the floor of the river bed was covered in small rocks along this stretch, and Liam tried not to fall along the slippery stones, or cut the bottom of his foot on the occasional sharp rock. The fast rushing current threatened to push him off balance the further into the river he walked, and the rain pelted against his face, obscuring his vision. He couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the water and the noise of the rain hitting the river - he had to keep squinting through rain to make sure he was still on target, that the small body clutching the rock was still in his path. Aside from fighting the elements, he felt off balance as he carried the walking stick - he had a vague plan to hold the stick out and have the person grab onto it. His wet clothes weighed him down as the water was now up to his waist, and he struggled to stay upright. 

Over the roar of the water and the rain, Liam heard another noise. Great, thunder, the last thing he needed. Thunder wasn’t the problem, he thought, but if lightning followed, it became a problem. He wasn’t worried about being struck by lightening, but the dense canopy of trees in the area meant that it was not unusual for a tree or branch to be struck. When that happened, if it happened along the river, a huge piece of tree floating along the water was a common sight. Liam gripped the stick tighter and blinked raindrops out of his lashes The water was now up to his chest, and the cold was beginning to make him feel numb. He was almost at the rock, and he could see the person stuck was a child, like himself, and it was a boy.

His dark hair was matted down to his head and fell across his forehead, and Liam saw his thin arms tightly clutched the rock. He had stopped yelling, and was staring at Liam. His eyes looked huge and dark and terrified. Liam didn’t recognize him, which was odd, because he knew everyone that lived along the banks of the river, even the McCoy family that lived on the opposite side of the Tug; he had never seen this boy at school, or anywhere else for that matter. 

Liam realized that if he was a little closer, he could hold out the stick and the boy could grab onto it. The water was now almost at his neck, and the only thing keeping him from being swept along was the stick, which he carefully pushed against the bottom of the riverbed. 

With the boys eyes still on him, Liam slowly widened his stance. He tried to dig his feet into the rocky riverbed as much as he could to anchor himself. Then slowly, slowly, he lifted the stick out of the water and - hand over hand pushing the stick closer to the rock, he tried to reach the boy. The boys wide eyes looked at Liam, then the stick, then back to Liam. 

“Can you reach?” Liam yelled, and his voice seemed to be swallowed up by the river below and the rain above. He felt very, very small, and shivered again, the cold and exhaustion starting to set in. He wished he had gone home after school. He wished he was feeding the chickens, or mucking out the stall, or doing any number of unpleasantries rather than freezing in the middle of the river. But the strange boy needed him.

Liam didn’t know if the boy could hear him. “Can you reach? Can you let go of the rock and grab the stick?”

Liam yelled as loud as he could, but he could barely hear himself. The boy wouldn’t be able to reach the stick unless he let go of the rock. Liam couldn’t go any deeper, he was already trying his hardest to avoid getting an accidental mouthful of river water as the currents were up to his chin and splashed his face. He tried to dig his feet deeper, and he leaned forward, just a fraction, to get the stick as close to the boy as possible. 

One moment Liam was leaning forward, and the next he was underwater and everything was cloudy and dark. He tried not to panic; he was a good swimmer and had spent every summer in the Tug. He swam toward what he thought was the surface of the water, and he surfaced a moment later, taking a large breath of air when a hand hit his face; without thinking Liam frantically grabbed it. The hand belonged to the boy, and Liam realized he was right next to the rock. The boy was still holding on to the rock with his left arm, and Liam gripped his right arm, but he realized their mistake a second later when the boy’s strength failed him (and how long had he been holding onto the rock for dear life, Liam wondered) and he let go of the rock; he slammed into Liam, who grabbed the boy and they both went under. This time, it was harder for Liam to reach the surface again, with the added weight of the boy in his arms. When they broke the surface, they both gasped for air, and the boy started coughing. Liam had both arms around his small waist, and the boy flung an arm around Liam’s neck, almost pulling them under again. Liam kicked his legs and tried to feel the bottom of the river with his feet, but it was too deep out in the middle of the river, and the current was sweeping them along. 

“Can you swim?” Liam yelled; even though the boy was wrapped around Liam like a barnacle, the noise of the river was deafening. 

“No,” the boy yelled back, voice hoarse - from yelling earlier, probably, Liam thought. He could barely hear him. 

“Shit.”

Liam tried not to panic even more. They were swept along the river at a fast pace, and he didn’t want them to hit a hidden rock in the water, and be dashed to pieces. Or, at least, get hurt, or get sucked under the water from a rip tide. 

He tried to use one arm to swim in the direction of the shore while he furiously kicked his feet and held on to the boy with his other arm, but it was useless - he needed both arms. The most he could do was tread water to keep them afloat while they were carried down the river. 

Then Liam saw their opportunity for salvation; they were fast approaching a stretch of the Tug where ancient trees, whose roots wove in and out of the side of the river bank, stretched out their branches over the water. Some of the branches were so low hanging, they reached down and dragged against the surface of the river. 

Liam didn’t hesitate. “Get ready to grab the branches!” 

The boy didn’t respond, but his grip around Liam’s neck tightened while he raised his other arm above the water, ready to grab the first branch that crossed their path. It ended up being sooner than Liam thought.

“Shit,” Liam felt the wind knocked out of him; he had taken the brunt of the blow - they had been swept right into a tree branch hidden beneath the water, and Liam felt like he was going to vomit with the force of the impact on his stomach. The strange boy held on to the branch, keeping them stable while Liam tried to catch his breath. He had to blink back tears, but with the rain pouring down so hard, he didn’t know if the other boy could even tell. It was evident Liam was in pain though, and the other boy didn’t say a word, just looked at him with concern with those dark eyes. 

The boy’s arm was still wrapped around his neck, and it took a couple of minutes for Liam to regain his breath, but his stomach ached - his entire body, in fact, felt battered. 

“Can you move?” The boy finally spoke again.

“Yeah, yeah I think so.” Liam tried to move, scooting his hands along the branch, as the boy finally let go of his grip around Liam’s neck to do the same. And in that manner they painstakingly made their way towards the shore. They had to stop a couple times for Liam to catch his breath, but the closer they got to shore the easier it got, as they were able to now reach the river bed with their feet. 

By the time Liam stumbled out of the water and collapsed down on the shore, the rain had started to lessen, and maintained just a light drizzle. The sun even came out from behind a cloud, casting light down on their little spot in the river valley, even though the light rain continued.

Liam tried to sit up. He had no idea how far down the river they had been carried. The other boy was sitting next to him, and Liam got his first good look at him. He looked to be about Liam’s age, but his build was smaller. He had those haunting, large eyes that Liam didn’t think he could ever forget, and his mop of dark hair still hung over his forehead. His clothes also looked similar to his own, if a bit more threadbare, and he was barefoot. 

The other boy leaned in close. The sunlight hit his eyes, even as the rain lightened to barely a mist, and Liam saw that his eyes weren’t a solid brown like he'd first thought, but had flecks of green and gold scattered throughout; they reminded Liam of the images he had seen in the kaleidoscope, where with one flick of his wrist what appeared to be one thing suddenly burst into completely new patterns and colors, never before seen by human eyes.

“I’m Zayn,” he said, voice still hoarse. 

“Zayn,” Liam repeated. He had never heard that name before. “I’m Liam.”

“Thanks Liam. I woulda drowned without you. You saved my life, so thank you.” 

The moment felt very solemn. Even though Liam’s stomach felt tender to the touch, and the bottoms of his feet were rubbed raw, even thought he was soaked and cold to the very marrow of his bones, he realized he would have done it all over again, if it meant saving this boy - this, Zayn, from the Tug.

“You're welcome. Nice to meet you, Zayn,” Liam said weakly.

“Now, where the hell are we?” Zayn croaked out. 

Liam struggled to his feet. “Dunno. But we better start walking before the rain picks up again.” He began to walk, but he felt his legs start to give out - Zayn was right there to grab him. 

Liam looped his arm around Zayn’s neck, in an echo of how Zayn had grabbed onto him in the river, and they began to slowly, carefully walk away from the water.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is giving this story a chance!! My focus for this fic is to really delve into location, motivation, and the ties that bind/tear people apart. I want it to read as much like a novel as possible - so there will be more backstory/build up then there is in my previous fics. I hope you continue to enjoy :)

Zayn stood in the middle of the parlor in Liam’s house, shivering violently; even though his clothes were no longer dripping wet, they clung damply to his skin and reeked of the river water that him and Liam had been immersed in. The entire day felt unreal - first his cousin Michael had thrown Zayn’s new pair of shoes into the river, and when Zayn waded in after them, the current had swept him up - he had somehow managed to cling to a large rock until his harrowing rescue and he couldn’t believe a boy his age hadn’t hesitated to wade through freezing water to attempt to rescue a stranger. And when Liam had taken the full impact of hitting the branch under water, Zayn had been truly worried there was going to be permanent damage done to the poor boy.

The other boy in question was standing next to him, also shivering, and still clutching his stomach where the branch had hit. Liam’s older sister, Ruth, who was blonde and looked to be about 17, had gone to fetch Liam’s mother after taking one look at both boys, wet and shaking, when they had walked into Liam’s house. Zayn took a moment to study the other boy - he was the same height as himself, but built with more muscle; although, Zayn thought, most boys his age were built bigger than his own rather delicate frame. Liam had round cheeks and wide set, kind brown eyes, which Zayn had noticed during the trek back upriver. After walking for a while, Liam had recognized where they were, apparently not having been swept as far downriver as initially thought. Even though Liam moved slowly and clutched his stomach, he insisted on going back to the original location where he had first spotted Zayn. 

“Gotta get my lunch pail and my boots - they’re my only pair I can still fit into. Not supposed to get a new pair until next week - my mother would have my hide if I lost 'em,” Liam explained.

Zayn felt his stomach twist in despair. He couldn’t tell his parents that he had lost his brand new boots, he just couldn’t. He also couldn’t tell them Michael was the real culprit- even if they believed him, his cousin would be sure to retaliate, and Zayn knew he wouldn’t be strong enough to fend off whatever punishment Michael would hand out.

The house was nice, much nicer than the house that belonged to his aunt and uncle that Zayn and his family were staying with. They had just moved from Philadelphia, where Zayn had lived his entire life in the city, surrounded by buildings and busy streets and people, people everywhere; this wild, untamed country life was alien to him. He had never met his aunt and uncle before, but his mother had promised him the Malik family would be welcome in their home, even though she had not seen her brother since Doniya, Zayn’s older sister, had been born eleven years ago.

Zayn had been put in the same bedroom as his cousins Michael and Nate. Nate was a couple years younger than him and was no trouble, but Michael had taken an instant dislike to Zayn - whether due to the room sharing or something deeper, Zayn wasn’t sure. Michael was fourteen and much, much bigger than himself. He was almost as tall as Zayn’s father. He had waited until they were alone in their bedroom, showing Zayn where he could put his few extra clothes, when he started speaking.

“So, you know we’re only putting you up because you’re family, right?” Michael said, fixing him with a disdainful look.

Zayn was confused. “Why else would you put us up?”

“The family doesn’t approve of your mother’s choice of husband.” Michael said, waving an arm in the air as if that explained everything. By THE family Zayn knew he meant all of the McCoys, not just his aunt and uncle.

“My father?” Zayn said, but he already knew the answer. In the big city there had been people that didn’t approve of his mother’s marriage to a man with dark skin who no one could tell for certain, at least at a glance, where he came from. (And Zayn knew, even at a young age, how much people didn’t like it when they couldn’t immediately look at someone and figure out their background, as his fellow school mates had asked what Indian tribe he was from). But for the most part they were left alone. Especially when his father opened his mouth and spoke English. Well, with a London accent, but English none the less. But his parents had warned that in the rural land by the Tug River, judgements might be stronger, and words might be harsher. Zayn didn’t think their own family would exemplify that behavior, however, as he had grown up hearing stories of the McCoys and their legendary loyalty to one another. 

“They’re not perfect, but they’re family,” his mother reassured him. “We could be gone another ten years and come back and still be welcomed with open arms.”

Despite his mother’s words, Zayn knew the decision to move back had not been a happy one or of his parents choosing - his mother lost her job as a long time cook for a wealthy family when the patriarch decided to leave Philadelphia and return his family to Providence. She took cleaning jobs in the meantime, but the money was just a fraction of what it had been. His father had lost his job in the factory he worked at when a boiler exploded and killed several people. His father had not been among those killed or injured, thankfully, but the factory was so badly damaged it had not re-opened after many months. His father had taken the odd part time job in the meantime, from delivery to construction, but had a hard time getting hired on for anything permanent. They had tightened their belts, and then tightened them some more. 

Until one night, late in the evening, Zayn had overheard his parents hushed voices, discussing moving back to his mother’s land, where she had grown up and where all her siblings and cousins still lived. She had written to her brother, Zayn’s Uncle Jack, and he had written back. And it was decided - they were to live on Uncle Jack’s farm until their own house was ready, which the family would help them build. Zayn was to room with Michael and Nate, and all three of Zayn’s sisters were to be squeezed in with Emmy, the only girl. 

Zayn’s parents were to sleep in the spare bedroom that, until recently, had housed a boarder the family had taken in to make extra money; but the boarder left to make his fortune out west. A small cabin was already being built on an adjacent tract of land to Uncle Jack’s property, and the Maliks would only have to stay for a week or two at the farmhouse before moving on to their own property. 

The first day in his uncle’s farmhouse, his aunt and uncle had taken one look at Zayn’s boots (full of holes, the soles worn down and almost flapping off, broken laces tied and retied again) and insisted on buying him a new pair. Zayn and his parents politely refused (even though his toes and heels had ached for weeks due to the tightness of the shoes on his growing feet). But his uncle insisted, and Zayn’s father finally gave in with the promise to pay them back. 

Zayn’s new black boots were a little big, and absolutely perfect. He knew he would have them for a while, so there was room to grow into them. The relief of not being in pinched shoes felt wonderful. Which was why, when Michael had picked up the boots, and dangled them over the water taunting Zayn, he had panicked and rushed into the water, freezing temperatures and his lack of swimming ability be damned.

“I was supposed to get a new rifle, but instead you got a pair of stupid boots instead,” Michael had shouted, right before he dropped the shoes into the water. “Do you know how many extra chores and work I had to do before I was told I could get one?”

Zayn should have known Michael’s generous-sounding offer to show him the surrounding area, with the promise of having a good time at the Tug river, was too good to be true. And when he insisted they both remove their boots so they could just dip their feet in, Zayn should have known better. But the kind of teasing he was used to - people making fun of his name, or his appearance, or the food he had in his lunch pail, were mild things compared to the ferocity of which Michael threw the boots in the water. 

Zayn’s anxious thoughts on what he could possibly tell his family about the boots were interrupted with the return of Ruth, followed by Liam’s mother, who wiped her hands on a blue apron and looked annoyed at the interruption. 

“Liam James, where on earth have you been? Nancy came over for a visit and she told me Emily Mean was going to have her baby before the day is over, so I know you’ve been out of school for hours - “

Liam’s mother was also blonde, and had the same kind eyes as Liam and his sister did. She finally took a good look at both boys, and paused. “What on earth…? What happened? And who is your friend?” She turned her frown to Zayn, who involuntarily took a step backwards.

“This is Zayn,” Liam said. “I found him in the river.” 

Zayn turned to him, worried. Liam still sounded out of breath, and he hadn’t stopped clutching his stomach. 

“Found him in the river? What do you mean?” 

Zayn decided to speak, seeing the obvious effort it took for Liam to form words. “Apologies ma’m, I fell in and Liam here, he came to my rescue. Woulda drowned without him. I owe him my life.”

Liam’s mother looked back and forth between the two of them. “Do you not know how to swim, child?”

“Uh, no. I just moved here from Philadelphia. Never swam in my life.” Zayn tried to maintain eye contact, but felt embarrassed. 

“Just moved here from Philadelphia,” Liam’s mother looked at him sharply. “Who are your parents?”

“Tricia and Yaser Malik,” Zayn said quietly. 

“Ah, so it is true. Tricia has returned home to be back amongst the McCoys. There had been talk.”

Ruth had been quiet so far, but she was watching Liam with the same concern Zayn had been. “Liam, do you need to sit down?”

“Yes, yes, I don’t think I can stand much longer." And to Zayn’s alarm, he watched as Liam’s knees buckled and he started to go down again, much like when they had begun to start walking.

Zayn grabbed him again, just in time before he hit the floor, and carefully led him over to the nearby sette and slowly set him down. 

“Liam, I’m going to look at your stomach now, can you move your hands?”

Zayn watched as Liam moved his hands aside, and Ruth lifted up his shirt. His stomach was mottled a fierce red; Zayn winced in sympathy as Ruth gently pressed her fingers down over the worst of the redness. Liam cried out in pain, but then bit his lip and stayed quiet as Ruth continued to press down. 

“You might have cracked some ribs, and you’ll be covered in bruises, but other than that you’ll be fine,” she said a minute later, pulling his shirt back down.

“Ruth’s been training with the midwife and the doctor,” Liam said, faintly, but his pride showed through the lines of pain etched on his face, and Zayn tried not to be in awe of Liam’s bravery; he didn’t think he’d ever met someone his age so fearless. 

“Ruth, you should have left an hour ago,” Liam’s mother scolded. “Emily’s baby could come at any time.”

Ruth looked down at Liam. “If you’ve cracked any ribs, you have to take it easy for a couple days. No running around, understood?” 

Liam just nodded weakly, and Ruth ruffled his hair. She turned to Liam’s mother. “I don’t know what time I’ll be back, but hopefully it will be an easy birth.”

“I’m sure everything will go smoothly.” 

Ruth left the room, and Liam’s mother looked down at him and sighed. “What am I going to do with you? And how did you, young man, fall in the river?”

“Uh, well, ma’m…” Zayn didn’t know what to say.

“You can call me Mrs. Payne, Zayn,” Liam’s mother said, not unkindly. “Now, what happened out there?”

Zayn looked down at his bare feet. He looked at Liam’s shoes on the ground near the door, which he hadn’t bothered putting back on when the boys had grabbed them, but had simply tied the laces and swung them over his shoulder, while Zayn held the lunch pail in one hand, his other arm still supporting Liam as they made the long walk back. 

“I, uh. I accidentally dropped my shoes in the river. They were new, my uncle he - he just bought them. I can’t go home until I find them, I have to find them - “ Zayn felt his heart start to pound in his chest, and he clenched his hands into fists. He couldn’t imagine the consequences of returning back to the farmhouse without the boots. He felt himself start to shake, and he clenched his fists tighter, and tried to take a deep breath before he did something horribly embarrassing, like cry. He was ten, for goodness sake, and too old to burst into tears over a pair of boots in front of these kind people he had just met. 

“Child, you can not go back out to the river - “ Mrs. Payne started to say but Liam interrupted, “Take mine, take my boots.”

“Liam, don’t interrupt,” Mrs. Payne scolded. “And need I remind you, those are your only pair of shoes that fit you?”

“Mother, please,” and Zayn watched as Liam turned those kind brown eyes to his mother, and looked at her pleadingly. He looked, Zayn thought, like a kicked puppy, and he didn’t know how Mrs. Payne was going to resist that.

“It’s fine,” Zayn mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself as he started to shake in earnest. He looked up and saw Liam staring at him. 

“He can’t go back without boots, he can’t.”

And Zayn didn’t know exactly how Liam knew, but he seemed to understand that Zayn absolutely could not return home without a high price to pay for losing the new boots.

“And besides, if Ruth said I had to take it easy for several days, then I won’t really be needing boots anyway. And I was supposed to get new ones next week? Please, mother. Please? Zayn needs them more than I do.”

Zayn flushed in embarrassment - he wasn’t a charity case. But he also knew he held none of the power in this situation. He could feel himself flush harder, and he couldn’t stop shaking. 

Mrs. Payne put her hands on her hips, and let out a sigh. “Fine, fine. Zayn can take your boots, and then I’ll see if cousin Barrett has an extra pair until we get your new ones. And Zayn, I see you shivering over there. Let’s get you boys out of these damp clothes - you can borrow some of Liams clothes for now, they’ll only be a little bit big on you, I think. C’mon now.” 

Zayn helped Mrs. Payne take Liam to his room and helped her get him out of the damp clothes, as he could barely lift his arms up without groaning in pain. Then Zayn changed into a dry set of Liam’s clothes, which as Mrs. Payne predicted, were loose, but not too much. She went to go make them warm cups of tea and to finish preparing supper, which she had been in the middle of when they arrived.

Left alone, Zayn looked at Liam, who was lying in his bed, arms stiffly by his side, face twisted up in pain. Zayn wanted to comfort the boy, but he wasn’t sure how best to distract him.

“Thank you, for saving me twice. First the river, now the boots.” Zayn pulled the only chair in the room over so it was next to the bed, and sat down. 

Liam looked up from the bed. Even in obvious pain, his eyes still radiated friendliness, Zayn thought. “Twas nothing. You needed boots, yeah? Don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Zayn frowned. “Oh, I’ll be in trouble either way. But thank you.”

Liam shrugged, then winced. “Like I said, ‘twas nothing.”

Zayn sat there for a moment, lost in thought. “Hey, have you ever seen a monkey?”

Liam smiled. “I’ve seen pictures of monkeys. Have you seen a monkey?”

“Yes, when I lived in Philadelphia, we got to go to the zoo once. It’s 25 cents a person, but one time my mother and father took me and my sisters for a special treat.”

Liam looked wistful. “I’ve never been to a zoo.”

“It’s the best - you have to go one day, you’ll have such a good time, promise. The best part of the zoo were the monkeys, by far.”

“Tell me about them?” 

Zayn was only too happy to oblige. He told Liam all about the monkeys and how fun and disgusting they were, at the same time. He didn’t even notice when Mrs. Payne brought them in cups of tea, and he kept talking until she announced supper was ready, and told Zayn that after they ate Bill Staton (“Now he’s related to both the Hatfields and the McCoys,” Mrs. Payne informed Zayn), would take Zayn back across the Tug to his uncle’s farmhouse, across the bridge that was a little ways upriver. 

She allowed the boys to eat in Liam’s room so he wouldn’t have to move again, and Zayn tried his best to entertain Liam with exaggerated descriptions of all the animals he saw at the zoo, while he tried not think about the maelstrom that awaited him back home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more background in the beginning of this chapter, then full steam ahead!
> 
> Thank you so much for everyone who took the time to leave a kudos or comment - I love hearing everyone's thoughts on the story, so any comment warms my heart.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys the new chapter.

The day after Liam saved Zayn from the river and gave him his old boots, he lay in bed, listening as Ruth told him a story about Asa Harmon McCoy.

Liam’s last name was Payne as his mother had married his father, from the large Payne family that hailed from Virginia, but his mother was a Hatfield through and through. The Hatfields lived on the West Virginia side of the Tug River, and were heavily involved in the timber business. While Liam’s father was not born a Hatfield, he had not only married one, but proved himself a trustworthy, as well as business savvy man, who quickly rose through the family ranks to help manage the Hatfield timber yards. 

The McCoys lived on the Kentucky side of the Tug River, and had for several generations, the same as the Hatfield family. Both families had lived and worked in peace with each other; in the rural parts of the river valley, it was important to rely on one’s neighbor - you never knew when help was needed. Until seven years ago, as Ruth explained, everything had been fine

Seven years ago, Asa Harmon McCoy returned from the war. Unlike the rest of the McCoys, he had fought for the Union. He was murdered, Ruth told Liam, by a group of Confederate home guards that went by the name of the Logan Wildcats. Liam and Ruth’s Uncle William, who everyone, even members of his own family, called 'Devil Anse,' was a suspect for a long time, until it was proven he was home sick when Asa was murdered. The real person, Ruth explained, who might have done it was their Great Uncle Jim, who was a member of the Logan Wildcats. But nobody in the family talked about that, she said; they were still outraged that Devil Anse had bee falsely accused in the first place. 

“So you see,” Ruth said, “things have not been good between us and the McCoys for a while now, since you were just a baby really.”

“But mother doesn’t seem to mind that Zayn is a McCoy? Or, I mean, he’s a Malik, I guess, but he’s still a McCoy by his mother, right?” 

Liam lay in bed, trying not to move. His stomach had slowly turned from a bright red to a pattern of deep blue and purple bruises, and taking deep breaths hurt. Ruth had kindly brought him lunch and kept him company. Mrs. Mean’s baby had been born healthy and strong late in the evening, and was named Wilbur. But Liam wasn’t so much interested in hearing about his teacher's new baby as he was learning more about his new friend with the unusual name. Well, Liam wasn’t sure if he could count Zayn as a friend yet. But, he reasoned, he had saved a man’s life, so they had to have some sort of deep bond, right?

“You know mother doesn’t care about things like that, but she’s loyal to Devil Anse. He’s her eldest brother, after all. But, she told me she used to be very good friends with Zayn’s mother, Tricia, when they were children. So I suppose she looks back fondly on those times.”

Liam thought about this - it was hard to imagine his mother as a child. She had always been his mother - how could he imagine her any other way? But if his and Zayn’s mother had been childhood friends, surely he and Zayn could be friends, no matter if everybody’s uncles were fighting over something that happened a long time ago?

“But I saved his life Ruth. And he has my shoes. That means we’re friends for life. When a man saves another man’s life, he becomes responsible for him, I think.”

Ruth laughed and looked down at Liam, head tilted. “You are a strange child, sometimes. Where did you hear that?”

“Devil Anse said it to me.”

Ruth smiled. “He was probably drinking at the time, so take no mind of him. Also, I think he said - when a man saves another man’s life, the man becomes indebted to him.”

Liam turned and stuck his chin up. He couldn’t really move around any more than that without wincing in pain. “Well, that may be, but I like mine better.”

“Yours is more noble, I’ll give you that.”

“Ruth!”

Liam heard their mother call for Ruth. She stood up and gathered the remnants of their finished lunch. “Keep resting, I’ll be back to check on you later.”

“Thanks Ruth,” Liam said softly. Having two sisters that were quite a bit older was sometimes like having three mothers, but Liam was grateful for his sisters, even if he felt smothered sometimes.

He heard voices from the front of the house. He wondered if his mother had a visitor. He looked out the window - to be trapped inside on such a beautiful day, as the spring sun shone brightly today in stark contrast to the downpour of yesterday, was quite a burden to bear Liam thought sadly, but it was the price to pay, he supposed, for saving a man’s life. He just hated sitting still so much, so he wasn’t sure what he would do to occupy his time for the rest of the afternoon. He wondered what Louis was up to? Probably helping his mother with all of his younger sisters, who were quite the handful.

The voices got louder, then Liam’s mother entered his room followed by Zayn, to Liam’s great delight. It was the first time Liam had seen him in completely dry clothes, and he looked down at at his feet to see that he was wearing Liam’s old boots, which gave Liam a feeling of pride. 

“Are the boots fitting ok? Did you stuff the hole so water won’t get in? Did you get in trouble?” Liam almost bounced on the bed in his eagerness to talk to his unexpected visitor.

“Liam, give the boy a chance to breathe,” his mother chided. She turned to Zayn. “Don’t let him overwhelm you, he just gets overly excited.” 

Zayn was looking bashfully down at his feet, but Liam could see his cheeks push up into a smile.

Then Liam noticed the woman standing behind Zayn. She was short, with dark hair. Zayn didn’t look too similar to her, but something in her expression was familiar, and Liam realized this must be Zayn’s mother, and his own mother’s childhood friend, Tricia. Or, Mrs. Malik.

“Liam, this is Zayn’s mother, Mrs. Malik. She wanted to meet you.” Zayn stepped aside so Mrs. Malik could enter the room. 

She came right over to the bed, and, much to Liam’s consternation, knelt down so she was eye level with him. He could see tears in her eyes, and he suddenly wanted to hide under his blanket.

“I wanted to come in person, and thank you for saving my son’s life. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there. My sonshine can’t swim and I -” she stopped talking to wipe her eyes, and continued to look at Liam. Her eyes were a nice brown, he thought, but nothing compared to Zayn’s kaleidoscope eyes. 

He felt horribly embarrassed. “It was nothing, really. I didn’t mind.”

Mrs. Malik sniffled and then laughed. “You are very brave, you know that? Anyone else would have run to get help, but you jumped right into the water. And I hear you got bruised pretty badly?”

Liam tried to cross his arms over his stomach, but everything was still too tender. “Ah, it’s not too bad.”

Mrs. Malik gently ruffled his hair. She blinked again, and her eyes looked even more watery. Her voice was soft. “Brave and modest. And then you gave him your boots, after all that?”

Liam just wanted this to be over, as the tears were now running down Mrs. Malik’s face and he really wanted them to stop. “Wasn’t nothing. He needed boots. And besides- “ Liam paused. He wasn’t sure if he should share his theory with them when Ruth said he was incorrect, but he looked over at Zayn, who looked embarrassed and was still looking at his feet, and that made up his mind. He added, in as firm a voice as he could muster, looking right at Zayn, “When a man saves another man’s life, he becomes responsible for him, yeah.”

Zayn looked up at him with wide eyes, and Liam smiled back, wanting to let Zayn know he didn’t mind the added responsibility. He turned back to Mrs. Malik, who wore a strange expression on her face. She looked at Liam for a long moment, then looked at Zayn. Then she turned to his mother and said, “You did a good job with this one, Karen.”

Liam’s mother smiled. “Some days more than others, trust me that.”

Zayn was watching Liam, his eyes wide but his mouth set in a firm line. Liam felt like the balance in the room was finally restored when Mrs. Malik stood back up and finished dabbing at her eyes. 

His mother continued on. “Tricia and Zayn were kind enough to bring over a pie and some loaves of bread as a thank you for yesterday, so if you boys want to talk I’ll bring in some pie in a little bit. Tricia and I have some catching up to do.” 

The women left the room, after a final squeeze on Liam's shoulder from Mrs. Malik, leaving the boys alone. For a minute, no one said anything, and then Zayn grabbed the same chair he had sat in the day before, dragging it over next to the bed and taking a seat.

“How are you feeling?”

Liam pulled up his shirt. “The bruises are coming in!”

Zayn made a face, looking at the swirling colors turning purple and blue, and Liam carefully put his shirt back down. “Ah, that looks like it hurts.”

“It does, but it also looks like I survived a mighty battle.”

Zayn laughed. “You want to be a soldier?” 

Liam considered for a moment. “I would be a good soldier, I think. I’m a good shot, and I’m pretty fast. And I can run long distances without getting tired. And being a hero would be nice. I dunno.” 

Zayn looked down again, and then looked up. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“You can’t tell anybody.”

“I know that. Besides, I told you, I’m responsible for you now.”

Zayn scoffed. “How old are you?”

“Ten in August.”

“I’m already ten. So I’m older, so you can’t be responsible for me.”

Liam could see the stubborn set of Zayn’s chin, but he could be stubborn too. “You’re older, but I saved your life, so I’m responsible for you.”

“No, you’re not,” Zayn said, looking annoyed. “You can’t be in charge of me when I’m older.”

Liam understood then. “No, no. I’m not in charge of you, I’m RESPONSIBLE for your life. It’s different.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow and shifted in his seat. “Different how?”

“Dunno, it’s different.” Liam thought for a moment. “Oh, I want to teach you. How to swim. Can we go to the river and I’ll teach you?”

Zayn looked alarmed; Liam felt like he needed to clarify. 

“Not the part of the river we were in. There’s a shallow part, where the water’s always calm. It flows off from the Tug and it’s like a little pond. It’s always quiet there, promise. Can I teach you?”

Zayn still didn’t look thrilled, but he nodded. “Ok. You can teach me.”

Liam felt accomplished, then he remembered. “What’s the secret?”

“Ok, I don’t want to be a soldier. Or a farmer. I want to be like Thomas Eakins when I grow up.”

Liam felt a bit let down by the secret. “Who’s that?”

“He’s a painter. He takes photos too. My mother took me to the Pennsylvania Museum one time, for my birthday. Just me and her. He has a bunch of paintings at the museum, and his stuff is really good." Zayn's eyes lit up and Liam smiled to see him look so enthused. "So I want to do that. But it costs a lot of money for paints and paper, so -” Zayn trailed off, looking sad again. 

Liam was beginning to think Zayn’s family didn’t have much money. He knew the McCoys across the river were mostly farmers - they weren’t in the timber business like the Hatfields were. He looked at Zayn’s shirt. It was clean, but it looked like it had been patched many times, and was too big on him. Liam wondered if it was a hand-me-down from a cousin. Then he wondered how much things like paints and paper cost; he would have to ask his father. His father knew the price of everything. 

“Well, I think that’s neat. If you want to be a painter one day, you should be a painter,” Liam decided. “Did you get in trouble. For losing your new boots I mean?”

“Not yet,” Zayn said. He picked at his sleeves. “My mother knows, but we haven’t told my father or uncle yet. I told her I dropped them in the river, but I think she knows that’s not what happened.”

“What did happen?”

Zayn kept picking at the frayed edge of his sleeve. “If I tell you, this has to be a secret too. You can’t ever tell anybody, understand?”

Liam decided he couldn’t wait any longer to ask. “Zayn, are we friends?” He asked as quickly as he could.

Zayn looked up, eyebrows raised. “Of course. You saved my life, so I reckon we’re friends, yeah?”

“Ok.” Liam felt relieved. Outside of Louis he didn’t have lots of friends, so it was good to know where he stood with Zayn. “Then you can tell me any secrets. That’s what friends are for.”

Zayn looked steadily at Liam. “My cousin Michael threw them in the river. He was mad because my Uncle Jack, his father, bought them for me instead of buying him a new rifle.” Zayn sighed. “He hates me. And I have to share a room with him.”

Liam was outraged. “You have to tell them what he did -”

“No,” Zayn sounded fierce. “No Liam, you don’t know what he’ll do to me if I tell. He’s fourteen, and so much bigger than me. You can’t tell anybody. You said I could tell you secrets, so you have to promise not to tell.”

“Zayn you could have died -” Liam started.

Zayn cut him off. “Liam, promise you won’t tell anybody. Promise?” He held out his hand.

Liam shook it, albeit reluctantly. “Promise.”

They were interrupted by Liam’s mother, who had plates of the pie brought by the Maliks. It was delicious pie, everyone agreed. And so, an afternoon was spent in Zayn’s company, with both boys eating second helpings of pie, and Liam felt the time fly by. He was sad when the Maliks took their leave, but he was buoyed by the promise of swimming lessons with Zayn in the future - he was determined to equip Zayn with as many survival skills as he could. He needed to keep his new friend alive, and Liam knew he was the right man for such an important job.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for the comments and kudos! Also, in the coming chapters, let me know if I need to add any tags. I'm thinking of changing the rating from no rating to Explicit, but I'm not really sure yet.

Zayn and his younger sisters, Waliyha and Safaa, and his cousin, Emmy, were helping his mother and aunt in the kitchen when there was a noise at the front of the house. 

“Hello, anyone home?” A voice called out.

“Zayn, be a dear and go see who that is,” Aunt Helen said. 

The men folk, which included Zayn’s father, Uncle Jack, his cousin Michael, and various other cousins and uncles who were all unfamiliar faces, were in the fields, planting hay. They had taken a break from finishing up the small cabin the Malik family would shortly occupy to take care of planting hay and readying the fields for other crops. Zayn should have been helping, but his Uncle Jack had taken one look at his arms and decided he was better off staying and helping the women and girls inside, and watching his younger cousin Nate. Zayn had been embarrassed, but also relieved; anything to stay far away from his cousin Michael was fine by him. 

After his mother and Zayn had returned from visiting the Paynes, Zayn’s worst fears had come true. Uncle Jack, with Michael standing next to him, a smirk on his face, as well as his own father, were standing in the formal room. Zayn took one look at his father’s face, and his stomach clenched. His father knew.

Uncle Jack spoke first. “What happened to your boots, young man?”

Zayn looked down at the boots he was wearing. While nowhere near the decrepit state of the boots he had brought from Philadelphia, Liam’s old boots were clearly not the new, shiny things his uncle had bought him a few short days ago, which, after his near death experience in the Tug, felt like a lifetime. 

“I said, Zayn, what happened to your new boots? Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Zayn took a deep breath and looked up. He looked at Michael for a second, who narrowed his eyes at him. “I dropped them. In the river. And then I tried to go in and get them, but I got swept away.”

“Zayn.” His father’s voice was softer than his uncle’s, but his tone sent a chill through Zayn. “How did you drop them in the river?”

“I…” Zayn didn’t know what to say. “I wanted to put my feet in the water, so I took them off. And then. And I - I set them down on a rock, then knocked them over. It was an accident, I swear! The river swept them away and I-”

“Enough!” Uncle Jack shouted, and Zayn hunched his shoulders and tried to remain calm. “We welcome you into our home. We spend money we don’t have to buy you new boots and you thank us by losing them? In the goddamned river? We were going to buy Michael a rifle? Do you know how long he’s been waiting for a new one? And then you try and hide what you did by finding some other old pair? You lying ungrateful little-” 

Zayn tried to jump back as Uncle Jack walked forward, hand raised as if to strike him. 

“Jack, no!” Zayn’s mother stepped in front of him, and Zayn felt both relieved and terrified. 

“Tricia-” Zayn’s father warned, just as Zayn said, “Mother, no-”

“Listen, Jack,” his mother’s voice shook. “He almost drowned. Zayn almost drowned in the river trying to get his boots. He can’t swim, he never learned how. And a boy saw him in the water, and went in after him. He saved him. Liam. Liam Payne. That’s where we were this afternoon. We were thanking him.”

Uncle Jack lowered his hand, but Zayn was apprehensive of the thunderous look on his face. “Karen and Geoff’s son? He can’t be any older than Zayn.”

“He’s not, he’s only nine. And he jumped in anyway. And the boots. He gave Zayn those boots afterwards. Please, don’t punish him. He’s been punished enough, I promise. He almost drowned,” Zayn’s mother turned to his father. She had started crying again. “He almost drowned, Yaser. We almost lost our boy-” 

Zayn’s father stepped forward and pulled his crying wife into his arms. Zayn felt so ashamed he wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole - here was his mother, sobbing, and his father was horribly disappointed in him, and his uncle furious, and rightly so, and then there was Michael, that smug, self righteous ass standing there looking amused by the proceedings playing out in front of him in the drab formal room, with the wilting lace curtains and the sagging settee as witness to the entire sorry event. Zayn wished his family had never moved to the Kentucky side of the Tug. He wished for the city, dirty and noisy as it was. 

Uncle Jack cleared his throat. “Tricia, the boy is clearly fine since he stands here before us. If you feel that he has been punished enough - if he truly almost drowned, then I won’t whip him like he deserves. But - he will be put to work. Michael deserves his rifle.”

He turned to his son, and Michael gave a smile and a nod back, then shot Zayn one final, narrow-eyed look, before leaving the room, his father following behind him.

Zayn turned to his parents - his mother’s sobs had slowed to the occasional sniffle, but she was still wrapped up tightly in her husbands’ arms.

“I'm sorry, “ Zayn whispered. He tried again, louder this time. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

To his surprise, his father gestured for him to step forward; he did, and then he was embraced in his father’s arm, and pressed up against his mother, who wrapped an arm around him as well. 

“It’s alright, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” His father’s voice was gruff above him. “Just, be careful ok? We can’t afford to make any mistakes out here. We have to look out for each other. We only have another week or so in this house, but we will owe Jack a debt for a long time. Be careful Zayn, please. You must be careful. This isn’t the city.”

And for the first time since he had stumbled out of the river, a bruised and battered Liam by his side, Zayn allowed himself to cry. 

“I will. I’m sorry, I’ll be careful, I promise father.” 

Zayn shook his head to clear his thoughts of the events from the previous week - it had been seven days since he had last seen Liam, and he wondered how the other boy was doing. Had his bruises turned from blue and purple to green, and then yellow? Was he up and about, walking around? And what of his promise to teach Zayn how to swim? Zayn really, really, didn’t want to learn, but he realized that if he lived near the Tug he wouldn’t have a choice. And besides, he wanted to see Liam again, and get to know him - not because he felt obligated since the boy had saved his life, but he had genuinely enjoyed his company. 

Zayn and Nate were tasked with clearing away the long, rough-hewn makeshift table that had been set up outside; everyone had come in from the fields to eat lunch together, and now it was time to clean up and start preparing for the next meal and attend to various other chores. 

Zayn left the kitchen and headed to the front door to see who was there.

When he opened the door, it was to Liam’s smiling face. 

“Hi Zayn, how are ya?”

Zayn was taken aback, as he had just been wondering about Liam, but was no less pleased to see him. “I’m good. I was just wondering how you were? How are the bruises?” He had to ask.

Liam shrugged, then lifted his shirt. The bruises were now a sickly looking yellow, although Zayn knew that meant they were healing. Then he noticed the horse tied to one of the stakes in front of the house.

“Should you be riding? Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Nah. At first Ruth thought I might have some cracked ribs, but I feel so much better - she thinks they were just bruised. And then my stomach’s feeling better - it no longer hurts really, if I poke the bruises.” 

“Well, don’t poke them then!” Zayn thought that was obvious.

Liam just giggled. “Well how else am I supposed to know if they still hurt or not?”

“Zayn, who’s there?” Aunt Helen called from the kitchen. 

Zayn remembered his manners. “Would you like to come inside?” 

“Sure” Liam followed Zayn as he led him into the house.” I came over to see if you would be free for a couple hours this afternoon?”

“Um, I don’t know.” Zayn looked over as Liam’s eyebrows lowered and his lower lip stuck out. “But I can ask. I’m supposed to help prepare dinner, and do chores, and watch over my cousin Nate.”

Zayn led him into the kitchen, where everyone turned to see who the visitor was. His mother was the first to speak. “Ah Liam, what a nice surprise. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you ma’m.” Liam said, with a nod of his head. He had taken off his over-sized brown hat, and was twisting the brim in his hands, over and over.

“Please, call me Mrs. Malik,” Zayn’s mother said, smiling. 

“Thank you Mrs. Malik.” Liam paused. “Nice to see you Mrs. Hatfield, are you well?”

“Yes, thank you. I heard what you did for my nephew - that was quite the act of bravery.” Aunt Helen was giving Liam a hard stare, and Zayn suddenly had an urge to grab Liam’s arm and drag him far away from the suddenly hot kitchen.

“Ah, it was no problem at all, I would do it again if I had to,” Liam said. “And once I teach Zayn how to swim, I won’t have to rescue him anymore. At least not from the river.”

Zayn scowled. “I won’t need rescuing at all.”

Liam just smiled. “You never know. We have bears here you know, in the woods.”

“Bears?” Zayn said. His voice may have gone up an octave; he really, really missed Philadelphia.

“They usually keep to themselves, so just don’t make ‘em mad and you’ll be fine,” Liam said breezily, as if bears were no big deal. He shrugged, then stood up straighter. “I came over to ask if I could borrow Zayn for a couple hours?”

Zayn turned and looked at his mother hopefully. He knew he had chores, but he also hadn’t left the farm since his mis-adventure in the river, and he was going a little crazy spending his days avoiding Michael and watching over Nate and his sisters; he was desperate for some company that was his own age, and a chance to get away from the farm for a little while. He tried to make his eyes as big as possible. He turned and looked at Liam, who was giving his mother the same look he’d given his OWN mother when he insisted on Zayn taking his boots. Zayn didn’t know how anybody could say no to that look.

His mother was apparently no exception to Liam’s pleading face - “That’s fine, but have him back in time for dinner?”

“I will, thank you Mrs. Malik!” Liam grabbed Zayn’s arm and pulled him along - Zayn only had time to turn his head back and say “Thanks mother!” before they were out the front door.

Liam put his hat back on, and then looked at Zayn consideringly as he untied the horse from the post. “Have you ever ridden a horse?”

Zayn had, but not often. In the city they never owned a horse and usually walked everywhere. “A little.” 

“Well, Eclipse here is easy going, she doesn’t startle much. So, I’ll help you up, and then I’ll get on, and I’ll make sure you stay on - how’s that sound?”

Zayn was nervous. He loved animals, but horses were just so big. And their hooves were so powerful. But he nodded, and stood next to the tall horse. Eclipse was all black, except for a ribbon of white through her mane. She stood there calmly, tail swishing behind her. Zayn reached up, putting his hands on her broad back; she wasn’t saddled and felt very warm to the touch. Liam bent down, hands forming a cup, and Zayn put his foot in, and then Liam was lifting him up, up, and he scrambled to swing his leg over. 

Once on top, he looked down, and took a deep breath. He knew he wasn’t really that high up, but it was a strange feeling, nonetheless, to be looking down at the ground from up above. Liam then grabbed on to the horse’s back behind him and effortlessly swung his leg up and over; Zayn was determined to learn how to do that without needing a leg up. 

“Ready?” Liam asked from behind him, as he reached around Zayn’s waist to grab the reins. “You can hold on to her mane if you need to.”

“Why the name Eclipse?” Zayn wondered. He sank his hands into the horses mane, which was both wiry and soft, somehow. He liked how the black and white strands looked falling over his hands. And then they were moving, and he could feel the powerful muscles of Eclipse under his legs. They left the farmhouse behind and headed towards the thick copse of trees that lined the Tug River in the distance. It was still early in the season, but every day there were more leaves on the trees, and the birds had woken Zayn up every morning at the ungodly hour of five, so spring seemed to be in full force. In the city there had been birds of course, but not like in the country. Zayn didn’t think he had ever heard birds be so loud. 

“Cus Eclipse was one of the greatest horses ever!” Liam said, his voice loud right in Zayn’s ear. “The first Eclipse was from England, and he was undefeated. He was foaled during an eclipse, that’s why the name. Then there was the American Eclipse. He was undefeated too, but probably not as great as the first one.”

“Is she your horse?”

“Yup, all mine,” Liam said. He flicked on the reins, and they went a bit faster. “Got her last year. She’s four years old, so I’ll have her for a long, long time.”

'

Zayn couldn’t imagine having his own horse all to himself. “My family doesn’t have any horses. I mean, Uncle Jack does, but my father doesn’t own any.”

“Well, any time you want to go riding, let me know. Eclipse and I will be happy to take you along,” 

Zayn smiled. He may hate his cousin and he didn’t want to live where the possibility of running into a bear could become reality, but he couldn’t believe his luck with finding such a good friend.

“Where we headed? The river?”

“Nah, we’re headed to the general store.”

Zayn was curious, he hadn’t seen anything of the surrounding area. Other than Liam’s house, he had stayed on the Kentucky side of the Tug, where all the McCoys resided. “Where’s the store?”

“So we go upriver, and then cross the bridge, then head downriver and then go east. Have you been to Mate Creek?”

“Haven’t been anywhere ‘cept your house.”

“Well, Mate Creek dumps into the Tug, so we go along the creek for a minute. There’s no town, really, but there’s a general store, and a saloon, and some houses along the creek, and the school. Our house is south of that. My family doesn’t farm, my father manages the Hatfield timber yards, but he wanted us to have our own space, so we don’t live too close to anybody else,” Liam explained. "My friend Louis lives close to the store. You have to meet him - Louis is loud, and is always in trouble. I think you'd get along swell." 

They were now crossing the bridge. Zayn looked down at the water rushing underneath. It hadn't rained in the last week, and the water seemed a bit lower, but looking down into the murky depths gave Zayn a chill, even with the bright sun shining down on his head, and the warmth of Eclipse underneath him and Liam at his back.

Zayn remembered the bridge from when Bill Stanton, a taciturn, but kind seeming man, had walked him home the night after he fell in the Tug. He remembered Mrs. Payne saying that Bill was a cousin of both the Hatfields and the McCoys. Zayn knew there were other families that lived in the area, of course, but it seemed the branches of the Hatfields and McCoys were in a complicated tangle. 

"Liam, I heard my Uncle Jack and Aunt Helen talking to my parents. Why do some of the Hatfields and McCoys not like each other?" Zayn twisted around on Eclipse to look at Liam, who smiled. 

"Dunno really. Ruth explained it to me. I guess my family got mad because some of your family accused Devil Anse, one of my uncles, of murdering Asa Harmon McCoy. But he didn't do it."

Zayn had heard that name, Devil Anse, being discussed in the conversation he had overheard. He wondered what type of man would be gifted with the nickname of Devil, to the extent that his neighbors and even his own family referred to him as such.

"But, can we still be friends? I mean, we are friends. But we can stay friends, right?" Zayn asked, trying not to sound nervous. He turned back to face front, and gripped Eclipse's mane tightly. He could see a clearing in some of the trees ahead, and the loud sounds of the river had given way to a more quiet babbling of an unseen creek. 

"Course we can still be friends, " Liam said, and gave Zayn a friendly nudge in the side. "My family doesn't care, and besides, you just moved here. Your family didn't do anything."

The trees thinned out then and Zayn saw the general store, a large, sturdy looking building. There were only a couple horses tied to the posts out front. Close by was the saloon, and further down was a sprinkling of houses. "This isn't like Philadelphia, that's for sure," Zayn sighed.

"C'mon Zayn, it's not that bad here. We don't have a fancy zoo or a museum, but we can go fishing and riding and shooting, yeah?" Liam said, as he hopped off Eclipse and started tying her up to the nearest post. Zayn stayed on the horses' back, unsure of how to gracefully dismount, until Liam held up a hand, which Zayn used to grab on to as he swung his leg around and awkwardly slid down until his feet hit solid ground. 

Zayn didn't know how he felt about fishing and shooting, although riding wasn't too bad. "What do you need from the store?"

"I don't need anything. We're here to get your boot fixed."

"What do you mean?" Zayn followed Liam into the store, and realized for the first time that Liam was wearing new boots himself. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before - the boots were shiny and barely had a speck of dirt on them.

"The hole in the left one. The boots fit you ok, yeah?"

Zayn flexed his toes in the boots. "Yeah, they fit fine."

"Well, when I was here the other day getting my new boots, I remembered the hole. So we're here to get that patched up."

Zayn felt embarrassed. He looked around the store, full of clothes and kitchen items and blankets and all sorts of things he, and his family, couldn't afford to buy. He looked at Liam, who looked so proud of his idea to get Zayn's boot fixed, that he didn't want to let the other boy down. But he had to. "Uh, Liam, I don't have any money to get the hole fixed."

Liam waved his hand, as if casting aside all of Zayn's worries. "We're just going to put it on my father's tab with the store, don't worry."

Zayn decided it was time to stand firm. "Liam, thank you, but I can't accept that. You already gave me these boots, I can't let you pay to fix 'em-"

"Zayn, it's not a big deal. I'm not paying, it's going on the tab. And my father doesn't mind, trust me. My cousin George is here today, and he does repairs on everything, he'll have that hole fixed in no time."

Zayn felt uneasy; his own tab with Liam was growing so high he would never be able to pay it back. He was already so indebted to him.

Liam didn't give him a chance to hesitate any longer - he grabbed his arm and gently pulled him toward the back of the store. "Let's go meet George." He leaned forward and whispered in Zayn's ear. "He only has one ear, he got in a fight at a card game. He accused his own brother, Phillip, of cheating, and Phillip wouldn't hear of it."

"His own brother cut off his ear?" Zayn was scandalized. 

"Oh, they're still close, people just take card games seriously around here," Liam laughed.

Zayn just shook his head and let Liam pull him forward. He wondered what other stories, both ridiculous and serious, the families that lived along the Tug River could tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are life, thank you!!


End file.
